Fair Trade
by Cicci Green
Summary: The Doctor kisses Donna one day after supper. Donna acquiesces.
1. Chapter 1

The Doctor kisses Donna one day after supper.

It would be a lie to say he had never considered it before, but when he actually _does it, _he hadn't been thinking about it much at all. He just leans towards her as they are washing the dishes, and presses his lips to hers.

Donna goes still, and her eyes meet his for a moment, wide and surprised. The Doctor draws back, mentally bracing himself for a slap, wondering if he has completely misread the situation and completely bolloxed up their friendship. By a stint of more effort than he's exerted in a while, the Doctor says nothing and just waits, looking at her face. Donna searches his face, and gives a little sigh.

"Oh," she murmurs.

And rises on her tiptoes to kiss him back, opening her mouth in invitation. The Doctor, feeling tipsy at her heady taste, wastes no time to trace the contours of her mouth with his tongue, and to begin exploring the depths of Donna's mouth. His hands end up spread over her lovely body, one hand with long fingers curving around her hip, and one next to her right breast, not quite touching it. The Doctor's eyes are closed, and he thinks he could kiss Donna Noble for a lifetime and never tire of her taste or the shape of her mouth or how soft she feels under his hands.

All too soon though, Donna breaks the kiss, panting slightly, and the Doctor's lips give a slight twitch in amusement at seeing how flushed she is, the reddened skin extending down her neck and underneath her blouse. He can hear her pounding heart, even at this distance, and her eyes are wide and glazed.

She blinks at him, and puts firm hands on his chest, pressing her lips back to his, and begins to ease off his suit jacket. Occupied as he is by thoroughly enjoying Donna's kiss, it takes the Doctor a little while to realize Donna has undone his belt and is working insistently at his flies. When her humanly hot hands come into contact with his erection, he wonders how he could have missed where her hands were heading, and he lets out a strangled groan as her fingers work up and down, alternating in speed and grip. The Doctor lets his head fall back, supported by one of the kitchen cupboards.

He's not quite clear on how they went from kissing at a leisurely pace to Donna having her hands down his trousers, but he's not about to complain about the development. She feels almost too hot against his cooler skin, and Donna's not the only one panting now. A shiver goes down the Doctor's spine and he realizes how close is to coming and how he really doesn't want his first time with Donna to be like this, no matter how nice and hot and (_oh Rassilon_) her hands feel.

"D-donna," he manages to croak and she stills her movement and meets his gaze. The Doctor wastes no time, grasping her hands in his, drawing them away, and turning quickly, puts her with her back against the counter in his previous place. Donna gasps, and the Doctor swallows the rest of the sound with his mouth, taking time to re-explore the crevices of hers.

He finally, _finally,_ gets to touch her the way he's thought about (for quite a while, if he's honest) and she exceeds every fantasy he could ever have imagined. Her flesh is soft and pliable, and he pictures her as Venus on the shell, the embodiment of womanhood, as he strokes up her hips and sides, over her breasts, and down. He feels ridiculously pleased that she's wearing a skirt, allowing him access to her pale thighs, and the pair of silky underwear that does little to conceal that her hair is as red there as on her head. He's about to touch her when she turns the tables again, grasping his cock and jumping up to sit on the counter, guides him into her body.

The initial burst of pressure and heat is almost blinding, and the Doctor supports himself, hands on the counter, gasping. When some rational thought returns to him, he begins to move, grasping her hips for leverage and desperately searching for her mouth and her taste again (_her taste, he wonders!_). Donna's head is turned away and he chases her mouth, caught up in her tightness and how she smells like the clearest autumn day and rain to come. If he could only kiss her again he would…

The Doctor stills.

"Donna?"

Donna's head is still turned away, but returning to himself, he can see the tear tracks on her cheeks.

"Donna?!"

Awkwardly, he pulls out of her, and pushes himself off, stumbling in his haste. Donna starts, and looks up at him.

"Donna, what's wrong, what happened?" The Doctor struggles to understand, scans his mind for things he might have missed, signals he might have misunderstood. Donna blinks at him and shakes her head.

"Nothing," she mumbles and reaches for him. "Go on." The Doctor sidesteps out of her range, a queasy feeling building in his belly.

"Donna, you're crying, why are you crying?" She reaches up to touch her wet cheeks, and stare at them in surprise, as if she'd not realized she'd been weeping. She looks dazed, and speaks in a disconnected voice.

"It's just… I thought… You said you… I thought you weren't interested, is all. Or well, I thought you were diff-… " She stops, looking resigned, and ancient and very much like a little girl all at the same time. "But I guess it's a fair trade to get to see the universe."


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor kisses Donna one day after supper and she supposes she should have expected it.

Donna doesn't exactly dislike sex, she guesses it's nice enough at times to be so close to another person, but she hardly thinks it's anything to write entire novels about. She wonders sometimes whether she's simply wired wrong, and that's why she's never (and she's embarrassed to admit it, even to herself) managed to come with a bloke.

She breaks the kiss, and looks up at the Doctor and sees the eager expectation in his eyes. She could never disappoint _him, _not when he looks at her like he's been given an unexpected gift (or a banana cream pie) so she leans up towards him to kiss him back. It goes on for far longer than she's expected, and a warm feeling of arousal is spreading through her body. She thinks it's nice of him to spend so much time on just kissing. Most blokes she's known have been eager to get down to the main event, and not wasted any time on making out.. And Donna thought the Doctor wasn't like all the other blokes, but it seems men are men everywhere, no matter if they're not human. The thought rolls in her stomach, a grey cloud of disappointment.

_Fine, _she thinks. Fine, if sex is what he wants, sex is what he'll get. But she'll not stand around her like some lovesick little chit. She pulls away from the Doctor, and proceeds to undress him. His gasp when she strokes him is gratifying. _Not so powerful now, Spaceman! _

It doesn't last long, her feeling of triumph. As if he's heard her, the Doctor swivels, putting Donna with her back against the kitchen counter, and the Doctor's hands roaming her body. He touches her slowly and carefully, over her big hips and pouting stomach, and if that weren't completely ludicrous she'd say he looks almost reverent.

_Silly Donna. _

She determines to just get this whole thing over with, and then pretend it never happened and if he wants to do it again, she'll deal with it. She's had plenty of boyfriends with a higher libido than hers, so she's no stranger to sex for the sake of domestic harmony. The nagging was always more annoying than actual act anyway, even if she wasn't always up for it, and she's somewhat on an expert on getting it done quickly.

As far as these things go, it feels rather nice when the Doctor pushes inside her. It's been a while, and the stretch is a little more than she would have liked, but his limbs are cool against her heated body, and the muscles firm beneath his skin. He really is quite an attractive man (_for an alien, of course!)._

And then his mouth starts searching for hers and it's just too much all of a sudden; the Doctor's body on top of hers, the way he supports his forehead on her shoulder… The tender way he kissed her earlier, and Donna almost wants him to quick and rough, instead of this… _pretense _of devotion he's putting up now. She knows what he wants, he knows it, they're both adults and there's no point in hiding it behind pretty lies. Those are for little girls and pretty young (_blonde) _things who deserve them, not old women like her. No, they're just for_ practice_, she thinks bitterly, echoing her mother's words.

And suddenly the Doctor is pulling away from her, looking fearful and shocked and confused. Crying, he asks her, why are you crying, and Donna touches her cheek and realizes he's right. She is crying and she's not even sure why.

But she knows she wouldn't give up traveling with the Doctor for anything. Seeing the stars and different universes and all these amazing, wonderful things, she'd do this and much more besides, and surely he's making far too big a deal out of this. She remembers Tommy, her flame back in uni, who'd looked at her while she sat on the floor crying for hours after her gran died, and thought sex would be a great way to cheer her up. She clung to him desperately afterwards, trying to make him hold her, and comfort her, just for a little while.

She's sitting at the kitchen table again, cup of tea in her hand. The Doctor must have led her there while she was lost in her thoughts. Donna's mouth curves downward in a sneer. She guesses a weeping female was not how the Doctor had pictured that this night would end and she blushes with shame.

Staring into her teacup, she mutters: "I'm sorry. Look, let's just forget about the whole thing, yeah?"

She's met with silence.

"Or…" Donna swallows a lump in her throat. "We could try again," and she hopes he'll say no.

The Doctor starts so violently she can see it even though she's not looking directly at him.

"No," he grinds out between clenched teeth and even though she wasn't actually keen on another round, the insult still grates at Donna and she's suddenly terrified that he's mad, that she's messed it all up and that he'll make her go home, go back and be stupid old Donna and no, she _won't_. He started this, she thinks, anger bursting forth hot and fiery inside her.

It fades just as quickly as it came when the Doctor moves, quick as a whistle, taking her hand in his. He stands with his head bowed, as if he doesn't dare to look at her.

"Donna… What do you think I am? A rapist?" and for once he doesn't babble or stutter.

It's Donna's turn to startle.

"What?! No! Why would you even say that? You're the most wond..." and she breaks off, embarrassed.

"Why then?" the Doctor asks, confusion lacing his voice. "Why would you think I would want to… continue when you were _crying." _He sounds disgusted, and Donna realizes he's disgusted with _himself, _not with her._. _

"I don't care. It was fine, I would've been fine. You didn't _hurt _me or anything."

"But Donna, you didn't like it," the Doctor says, and sounds all of his nine hundred odd years.

"It's just…Doctor, it's never really mattered much before. Whether I enjoyed it or not."


End file.
